COLUMBIA  LIBRARIES  OFFSITE 

AVERY  PINE  ARTS  RESTRICTED 


AR01 400673 


!0US1  -OF  THE  DeLMONICOS, 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/historyofoldnewyOOrimnn 


i£x  iCibrtfi 


SEYMOUR    DURST 


-t '  'Tort  niewt/    ^tn/ierjAm^  of  Je  iAanhatarus 


When  you  leave,  please  leave  this  hook 

Because  it  has  heen  said 
"Ever  thing  comes  t'  him  who  waits 

Except  a  loaned  hook." 


Avery  Architectural  and  Fine  Arts  Library 
Gift  of  Seymour  B.  Durst  Old  York  LiiiRARY 


A    HISTORY 


OF 


Old    New    York    Life 


AND  THE 


House    of    the    Delmonicos, 


BV 


LEOPOLD     RIMMER 


i^n 


CoPYRicarr,  July,   1898. 


PREFACE. 

Ridet  argento  domus  ara  castis 
Vincta  verbenis,  avet  immolato 

Spar<^ier  agno 
Cuncia  lestenat  manus  hue  ct  illuc 
Cursitant  mistae  pueris  pucUae. 


Leopold  Rimmer, 

Author. 


^.^*: 


^^^yyiy?y^^ 


Y/^<rP^7rt£^t^^ 


WITH    PERMISSION 
OF 

MR.  CH.  CH.  DELMONICO, 

To  MY  Esteemed  Readers. 


f§  HAVE  to  go  back  to  my  childhood  before 
I  can  tell  my  historic  facts  in  a  letter 
to  the  public  of  old  New  York  and  the 
noble  house  of  Delmonicos. 
I  was  born  at  Langenlois,  near  the  Danube, 
of  Lower  Austria.  My  dear,  good  father,  Leopold 
Rimmer,  was  born  in  the  same  city  in  1800,  on 
the  6th  of  December  and  had  a  common  edu- 
cation of  the  public  school  and  began  his  life, 
after  his  father  died,  as  a  wine  grower  ;  he  bought 
a  house  with  the  finest  wine  cellar  you  can 
imagine.  This  cellar  is  so  great  and  big  that 
anybody  can  drive  a  four-in-hand  Tally- Ho 
around  in  it.  It  is  built  of  brick  and  the  temper- 
ature does  not  vary  more  than  2  degrees  Fahren- 


heit,  winter  and  summer;  it  is  so  high  that 
casks  of  200  barrels  can  He  side  by  side. 

The  press-house  is  a  marvel  of  simplicity, 
and  to-day  is  still  in  existence. 

We  ^vere  six  children,  four  boys  and  two 
girls  ;  we  were  brought  up  in  the  Roman  Catholic 
faith,  but  we  are  noAv  non-believers. 

I  was  ministrant  in  our  church  to  the  fathers 
of  the  congregation,  and  I  can  read  the  Mass  in 
Latin  just  as  well  as  any  priest.  I  had  a  good, 
fair  schooling  in  a  public  high  school.  I  grad- 
uated with  honor  in  every  branch,  history,  Latin, 
geography  and  astronomy- — except  religion. 

Then  I  had  to  learn  some  trade  or  business 
and,  as  a  lively  boy,  I  liked  hotel  life,  and  so  I 
\vent  to  Vienna,  the  capital  of  Austria  and 
Hungary,  and  took  a  place  as  apprentice  in  the 
Hotel  Kaiserin  Elizabeth  of  Austria,  Weibur- 
gasse,  No.  11,  in  1856.  The  hotel  was  then  under 
the  management  of  Andreas  Bauer,  who  had  also 
the  Hotel  Tallagini,  in  Ischel,  up]:>er  Austria. 
Mr.  Tallagini  was  a  railroad  constructor,  who 
built  the  Semmerig  Bahn,  with  its  tunnels  and 
high  up  grade  to  Trieste. 


10 


When  I  grew  older  I  took  charge,  when 
eighteen  years  of  age,  of  the  Hotel  aux  trois 
Courune  cl'Or  in  Vienna,  and  my  good  father  gave 
2,000  florins  as  a  security  that  I  could  not  run 
away  with  the  hotel  or  the  money  I  collected. 
That  was  in  1862. 

Among  my  customers  was  King  Alfonzo  the 
XII,  when  he  and  his  mother  Isabella  were 
expelled  from  Spain,  and  Spain  was  a  republic 
then  for  a  short  time,  as  everybody  knows. 

Alfonzo  studied  in  the  Theresiannum,  where 
only  blue  blood  is  accepted,  like  the  Hapsburgers 
of  Austria,  or  any  nobleman  of  some  great  house, 
as  princes  or  barons  of  some  old  houses,  and 
counts — of  no  account — and  the  like. 

When  King  Alfonzo  came  to  my  hotel  and 
took  luncheon  I  had  manv  chats  with  him. 

At  that  time  I  was  good  looking  and  went  to 
my  coiffeur  in  a  fiacre  every  day  to  have  my 
hair  curled  with  a  hot  iron,  and  that  is  the 
reason  wh}^  I  have  not  much  hair  left  on  my 
head  now.  I  was  always  dressed  to  Ivill,  in 
summer  white  pants  and  dress  coat,  and  when  I 
stood  at  the  door,  i\  ^ne,  well-shaped  good  look- 


ing,  beautiful  girl  passed  every  day,  at  the  same 
hour,  from  the  school  ;  she  looked  at  me  and  I 
looked  at  her.  She  went  nearly  crazy  for  love  of 
me,  and  I  was  dead  gone  on  her,  and  she  is  my 
wife  to-day  and  happy,  after  a  married  life  of 
thirty-two  years.  A  young  millionaire  shot 
himself  because  she  would  not  look  at  him. 

Our  wedding  trip  was  to  the  United  States  of 
America,  in  1866,  on  the  old  Hamburg  steamer, 
Teutonia.  We  were  frightfully  seasick,  but  we 
sat  on  the  deck  and  lived  from  love,  till  we  came 
to  Hoboken. 

I  could  then  speak  French,  German,  English 
and  Italian,  Latin  like  any  scholar,  and  a  little 
of  the  Austrian  Slavonic  languages. 

After  finding  some  quarters  through  a  friend 
whom  I  already  had  in  this  noble  land  of  the 
free,  I  became  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  of 
America. 

Three  days  after  my  landing  I  was  engaged 
by  Mr.  Charles  Delmonico  in  the  F^ourteenth  Street 
house,  northeast  corner  of  Fourteenth  Street,  and 
Mr.  Charles  Delmonico,  seeing  my  ability,  gave 
me   charge  of  the  cafe  room.     I  entered  on  St. 


Patrick's  Day,  the  17th  of  March,  1866.  It  was  a 
very  cold  day,  with  plenty  of  snow.  The  17th  of 
March  is  also  the  birthday  of  Mr.  Ch,  Ch.  Del- 
monico,  the  father  of  Mr.  Ch.  Ch.  Delmonico.  Mr. 
Christ  was  a  diamond  broker,  in  Maiden  Lane  and 
in  Paris.  I  knew  him  well,  and  Mr.  Ch.  Ch.  Del- 
monico had  breeches  on  then. 

Mr.  Lorenzo  Delmonico  was  the  heart  and  soul 
of  that  great  establishment,  with  its  grand  ball- 
room, the  fine  blue  room,  with  its  famous  blue 
satin  ameublements,  the  Chinese  room  and  the 
library  room  where  the  rich  old  New  Yorkers 
dined  and  wined  their  ladies  and  friends  in  great 
style. 

At  that  time  Mr.  Lorenzo  went  every  day  to 
the  Washington  and  Inillon  markets,  and  picked 
out  everything  at  four  o'cloclc  in  tlie  morning, 
for  twenty-five  years,  wliat  was  good  and  fine, 
from  meats  to  game,  fish,  fowls,  terra])in,  what- 
ever was  in  season,  vegetables,  and  all  that 
makes  a  fine  talkie  l^eaiitifnl,  and  at  ciglit  o'clock 
he  came  l)ack  and  I  served  him  with  a  small  cup 
of  ])lac]c  coffee  ;  then  he  smoked  a  strong  P^igaro 
cigar   and  went  home    in    his   cab  to    1 1 1    East 


t3 


Fifteenth  Street  and  went  to  bed.  Every  evening 
he  came  back,  and  sat  with  his  friends,  after 
taking  a  Httle  supper,  till  12  o'clock  he  went 
home  again,  like  a  clock  work. 

Among  his  friends,  there  are  only  two  alive 
now,  and  they  are  Mr.  Wood  Gibson,  a  life -long 
friend  of  the  Delmonico  family,  and  Mr.  Jordan 
L.  Mott,  the  iron  king  of  Mott  Haven,  the  chum 
of  Mr.  Siro  Delmonico,  of  the  Chamber  Street 
house.  Mr.  Wood  Gibson  died  since  August  4th, 
1898,  in  New  Jersey,  and  Mr.  Jordan  L.  Mott  is 
living  yet.  Beside  these  gentleinen,  the  others 
all  died  long  since.  There  were  Mr.  Bedlow,  Mr. 
Floyd,  Mr.  Ben.  Venberg,  with  his  high  heels  ; 
Mr.  George  Lawrence,  Mr.  Arrow  Smith  and  Mr. 
Turnbull,  the  old  sport,  who  owned  Dexter,  the 
fastest  trotter  at  that  time. 

The  first  great  dinner  I  saw  ^vas  the  dinner 
given  to  Professor  Morse,  the  electrician  and  in- 
ventor of  the  first  real  useful  telegraph.  Professor 
Morse  was  the  first  man  wlio  built  a  telegraph 
line  from  New  York  to  Washington,  and  it 
worked.  The  first  European  cable  was  laid  in 
1866   witli  the  Great  Eastern,  and   it  l^roke  very 


M 


soon  after  it  was  laid  ;  the  second  one  was  laid 
in  1867,  with  the  Great  Eastern  and  the  Faraday, 
and  it  Avorked. 

In  the  grand  ball-room  there  was  a  connection 
made  with  the  first  European  cable  to  London, 
and  Professor  Morse  telegraphed  the  first  cable- 
gram from  his  table,  and  in  forty  minutes,  the 
answer  came  back,  and  was  read  to  the  assembled 
three  hundred  and  fifty  guests,  and  received  with 
tremendous  applause. 

Now,  with  the  permission  of  my  esteemed 
readers,  I  will  have  to  go  back  to  music.  It  was 
in  1857  when  Franz  Liszt,  the  great  composer 
and  piano  artist,  was  in  Vienna,  and  living  in 
the  Hotel  Kaiserin  Elizabeth  of  Austria.  At  the 
same  time  Anton  Rul^enstein  was  there,  and 
Richard  Wagner  and  Alfred  Jaehl,  and  the  great 
violincello  artist,  Piatti.  I  knew  them  all  well. 
Richard  Wagner  was  just  then  bringing  out,  and 
on  the  stage,  Rienzi  and  Lohengrin,  those  two 
great  operas.  When  Anton  Rubenstein  made  his 
journey  to  the  United  States  of  America  he  was 
a  daily  customer  at  Delmonicos,  and  I  had  many 
chats  with  him. 


Afterwards  Franz  Liszt  became  an  Abbe  in 
Rome.     Oh  weh  ! 

Then  Manager  Bateman  brought  the  first 
French  opera  boaffe  company  from  Paris  to  New 
York.  The  first  opera  he  brought  out  was  the 
Grand  Duchess  of  Geroldstein,  by  Jacques  Offen- 
bach, a  German,  but  a  Parisian  composer,  with 
Mademoiselle  Toste  and  Montaland,  and  when 
General  Boom  Boom  sang  the  song,  ''le  Sabre  de 
moil  Pere'\  the  jeunesse  dore  of  New  York  went 
wild  with  enthusiasm.  It  was  played  in  the 
P^rench  theater,  corner  of  Fourteenth  Street  and 
Sixth  Avenue. 

Mr.  James  P^isk  was  a  visitor  at  the  theater 
and  liked  Mademoiselle  Montaland,  and  invited 
her  to  dine  with  him  at  Delmonico's.  Any  man 
with  money  would  do  the  same.  He  brought 
her  often  with  a  four-in-hand  to  Delmonico's. 

And  then  came  the  great  fire  in  Chicago. 
James  P^isk,  as  President  of  the  Erie  Railroad, 
went  witli  six:  liorses  in  a  truclc  wagon,  to  his 
many  friends,  and  collected  whatever  he  could 
get,  from  clothes  to  eatables,  and  sent  them  by 
express  to  Chicago.     It  took  the  train  60  liours. 


16 


Then  came  the  Black  Friday  and  also  Miss 
Josie  Mansfield  and  Mr.  Edward  Stokes,  and  the 
end  of  this  terrible  romance  everybody  knows. 

I  remember  when  Mr.  Cornelias  Vanderbilt 
\vas  entertaining"  in  his  house  at  the  corner  of 
Fourth  Street  and  Washington  Square,  then  very 
fashionable,  and  the  great  caterer  was  always  Mr. 
Lorenzo  and  Mr.  Charles  Delmonico,  his  nephew. 

At  that  time  Mr.  August  Belmont,  who  had 
a  lame  foot,  gave  an  after  theater  supper  in  the 
blue  room  for  al^out  fifty  of  his  guests  and  friends. 
He  sat  in  the  middle  of  the  table,  his  lady,  Mrs. 
Belmont,  opposite  him,  and  to  her  left  sat  Mr- 
John  Hecksher,  the  only  gentleman  at  this  en- 
tertainment who  is  living  yet. 

About  the  same  time,  in  1867,  the  stock  of  the 
Maison  d'Or,  No.  44  Union  Square,  proprietor,  Mr. 
Matinez,  was  sold  at  auction,  and  Mr.  Lorenzo 
Delmonico  bought  the  finest  and  oldest  brands 
of  port  and  sherry  wines  in  existence,  and  some 
of  them  are  to-day  in  the  Delmonico  cellar  in 
Twenty-sixth  Street,  Madison  Square.  Some  of 
tliem  are  over  one  hundred  years  old.  Price 
unlimited. 


17 


Then  came  a  great  deal  of  trouble  to  the 
noblest,  best  hearted  and  most  generous  man 
that  ever  lived,  Mr.  Lorenzo  Delmonico  ;  he  in- 
vested money  in  a  petroleum  company  in  Brook- 
lyn to  the  amount  of  half  a  million  dollars,  and 
I  rememl)er  he  went  with  the  steainer  Lorenzo, 
from  the  Companie  Transatlantique  Frangaise 
to  his  Ijirthplace,  Faido  Canton,  Ticino,  Switzer- 
land, to  Ijuild  a  school  there,  for  the  children  of 
his  compatriots.  Before  leaAdng  he  gave  the 
power  of  attorney  to  his  l3rother,  Mr.  Constant 
Delmonico,  who  had  charge  of  the  old  Beaver 
Street  house,  with  instruction  to  help  the  petrol- 
eum compciny  in  case  they  needed  some  money, 
and  he  did  it  so  well  that  in  a  short  time  half  a 
million  dollars  was  gone,  and  Mr.  Lorenzo  Del- 
monico found  out  that  he  was  a  ruined  man. 
When  Mr.  Lorenzo  heard  this  news  he  came 
right  home  to  New  York  to  see  what  he  could 
do.  Mr.  Lorenzo's  friends  advised  him  to  go 
right  ahead  with  his  business.  He  then  had 
four  establishments  ;  first,  the  Beaver  Street 
house,  managed  l)y  his  ])rother,  Constant  Del- 
monico ;  the  Broad  Street  house,  managed  by  Mr. 
John  Longhi  ;  the  Chamber  street  house,  managed 


iS 


by  Mr.  Siro  Delmonico,  the  Fourteenth  Street 
house,  managed  by  Mr.  Charles  Delmonico.  Mr. 
Sandford,  from  Brooklyn,  Mr.  Guedin,  a  brother- 
in-laAv  of  Mr.  Lorenzo,  and  others  helped  him, 
and  he  paid  every  cent  to  his  creditors,  and 
made  more  millions  of  dollars  ;  and  besides,  he 
never  collected  over  half  a  million  dollars  by 
law,  which  New  Yorkers  owed  him.  He  died  in 
Sharon  Springs,  State  of  New  York,  from  a 
stroke  of  paralysis,  in  the  hotel  of  his  friend, 
Mr.  Gardner.     I  look  like  Mr.  L.  Delinonico. 

In  his  will  and  last  testament,  he  left  every- 
thing to  his  nephew,  Mr.  Charles  Delmonico,  with 
the  order  that  as  long  as  a  Delmonico  lives,  the 
business  must  be  kept  running.  To  his  brother 
Siro,  he  left  $100,000,  the  interest  of  it  only,  and 
that  broke  Mr.  Siro's  heart  and  he  died. 

Now,  Mr.  Charles  Delinonico  was  caught  by 
the  Wall  Street  fever,  operated  largely,  and  lost 
almost  every  time  ;  his  broker,  Mr.  Alexander 
Taylor,  is  living  yet.  Then  one  cold  day  in  the 
winter,  I  do  not  remember  the  exact  date  any 
more,  he  wanted  to  take  a  walk,  and  when  he 
came  down  stairs,  his  nephew,  Mr.  Ch.  Ch.  Deb 


19 


monico,  who  was  to  accompany  him,  said  :  "Uncle, 
it  is  too  cold  ;  I  will  go  up-stairs  and  get  a  warm 
coat  for  you."  And  when  he  came  down  again 
he  was  gone.  He  wandered  over  the  ferry  to 
New  Jersey  and  on  to  South  Orange,  and  asked 
for  a  cup  of  coffee  in  a  farmer's  house,  and  said 
he  has  no  money,  but  he  has  big  friends  in  Ne^v 
York ;  after  he  warmed  himself  he  left  and  was 
seen  no  more  alive.  The  stricken  family  oftered 
$5,000  to  the  person  who  will  find  his  body.  It 
was  found  in  a  ditch  by  the  road  side,  and  the 
reward  was  paid.  With  poor  Mr.  Charles  all 
was  over ! 

Now  I  have  to  go  back  to  the  living  again. 
There  is  Mr.  Louis  Delmonico,  who  owns  an  art 
gallery,  166  Fifth  Avenue,  his  sister,  Miss  Josie 
Delmonico,  and  the  sister  of  Mr.  Charles,  Miss 
Rose  Delmonico.  Mr.  L.  Delmonico  has  two 
sons,  fine  strapping  boys,  from  nine  to  twelve 
vears  old. 

Among  the  living  employees  of  the  Four- 
teenth Street  house  are  Mr.  Charles  Rauhafer,  the 
greatest  of  all  the  chef  cooks  in  the  world,  and 
he  is  a  great  disciplinarian  ;  there  is  no  back 
talk  allowed  by  any  means  with  him. 


20 


Mr.  Garnier,  who  commenced  as  a  young  boy 
in  the  office,  in  Fourteenth  Street;  he  is  the  act- 
ting-  manager  of  all  the  Delmonicos'  business 
now.  Mr.  Philip  Willerman,  who  commenced 
very  young  in  the  bar,  and  is  thirty-four  years 
in  the  house,  without  missing  one  day  in  his  life, 
and  he  is  the  most  honest  man  that  ever  lived. 
He  is  now  managing  the  Palm  and  Roof  Garden 
in  Fourty-fourth  Street.  The  engineer,  Mr. 
Robert  Allan,  who  had  done  the  technical  work 
and  steain  fitting',  in  the  Fourteenth  Street 
house,  and  in  the  Twenty-sixth  Street  house,  and 
he  attends  to  his  work  yet,  in  Twenty-sixth 
Street  to-day,  and  myself. 

Mr.  Nestor  Lattard,  the  young  and  able 
manager  of  the  Twenty-sixth  Street  house,  is 
not  only  just,  but  kind  and  polite  to  every  em- 
ployee. He  is  also  a  landscape  painter  of  ability, 
and  whenever  he  has  a  leisure  hour,  he  paints 
up-stairs  for  pleasure.  He  has  at  least  a  hun- 
dred paintings  in  his  atelier.  His  brother  is  a 
renowned  painter  and  artist  in  Paris. 

Louis  Napoleon  made  his  headquarters  in 
the  old  Stevens  House  when  he  was  in  exile  in 
America. 


Dr.  Kane,  the  Arctic  explorer,  the  Hollands, 
the  Van  Burens,  the  Aspinwalls,  the  Stuyvesants, 
the  Cuttings  and  the  Morgans,  came  there  to 
drink  their    cafe  a  la  Francaise, 

Now  for  Tweed  and  Company  and  the  new 
courthouse  ;  there  was  millions  in  it  a  la  Tam- 
many Hall.  The  marriage  of  Mr.  Tweed's 
daughter  was  the  greatest  affair  that  New  York 
ever  saw.  I  think  it  cannot  be  beat  to-day  in 
Greater  New  York. 

Horace  Greeley  and  Fernando  Wood  were  in 
the  Chainber  Street  house  every  day,  when  sun- 
beaming  Mr.  Siro  Delmonico,  with  his  ever 
shining  stove  pipe  hat,  was  directing  the 
Chamber  Street  house.  When  Tweed  was  in  his 
glory,  Greenwich  town  with  its  great  American 
club-house  sprang  up,  now  called  Indian  Harbor. 
There  was  then  a  feasting  like  the  old  Romans 
did  ;  high  up  in  an  oak  tree,  hundreds  of  years 
old,  was  a  platform  large  enough  to  seat  fifty 
people.  Music  and  wine  and  beautiful  women 
^vere  there,  and  Paradise  was  not  in  it,  and 
where  did  Tweed's  glory  end  ?  From  a  poor 
man  to  the  boss  of  Tammany,  from  exile  to 
death  as  a  fugitive  in  foreign  lands. 


22 


The  next  event  was  that  of  the  beautiful 
Misses  Smyths  ;  their  father  was  the  Collector 
of  the  Port  of  New  York.  The  Jaffray  brothers 
were  then  all  the  go,  and  William  married  one 
of  the  Misses  Smyths.  He  had  a  great  hoiTie 
in  England  and  died  there.  I  do  not  know  what 
became  of  Mr.  Howard  Jaffray. 

In  1873  I  Avent  with  my  wife  to  the  expo- 
sition in  Vienna.  I  bought  two  drafts  from 
Messrs.  Biederman  and  Rubino,  No.  23  William 
Street,  and  when  I  was  at  sea  on  the  steamer 
Deutschland,  came  the  panic  of  1873,  and  every- 
body in  Vienna  failed.  Gold  was  at  18  per  cent, 
premium.  In  Vienna  there  was  a  dozen  of 
suicides  a  day  ;  yesterday  a  millionaire,  to-day 
a  beggar. 

In  the  Prater,  a  park  in  Vienna,  where  the 
race-course  is,  the  Italian,  Slamuci,  Avrapped  the 
cheese  and  Salami  in  thousand  dollar  bonds. 

Mr.  Biederman  is  the  brother-in-law  of  Mr. 
Bishoffsheim  and  Erlanger,  bankers  in  London, 
failed  also. 

When  Mr.  Luckemeier  gave  that  great  dinner 
in  P'ourteenth  Street — $75  a  head  without  wine,  it 


23 


was  the  greatest  affair  that  ever  could  be  got  up 
in  any  land.  The  table  "was  eighteen  feet  wide 
and  as  long  as  the  hall ;  it  had  a  big  lake  in  the 
middle,  \vith  a  big  cage  over  it ;  there  ^vere  swans 
s\vimirLing  around  in  it ;  there  were  large  trees 
with  rustic  bird  cages,  and  singing  canary  birds, 
and  two  fountains,  stones  and  sand  just  like  a 
natural  park.  Tiffany  built  the  big  golden  cage  ; 
it  was  a  sight,  and  Mr.  Delnionico  allowed  every- 
body to  see  it,  from  the  gentlemen  guests  to  the 
plainest  servant  in  the  house. 

Now,  since  Delmonico  moved  up  to  Forty- 
fourth  Street,  Twenty- sixth  Street  is  like  a  step- 
child, but  memory  will  stay ;  for  instance,  the 
St.  James  Hotel,  a  landmark  of  the  olden  times, 
was  turned  into  one  of  the  finest  office  buildings 
of  modern  times,  fourteen  stories  high,  with 
hundreds  of  offices  and  marvellous  accommo- 
dations— elevators  and  dynamos,  and  built  by 
Mr.  Bruce  Price,  one  of  the  smartest  and  ablest 
architects  of  modern  times. 

The  only  mistake  that  ever  was  made  against 
the  interest  of  the  Delmonicos'  business  was  Mr. 
Charles  Rauhafer's  cook  book,  which  gave  away 


24 


all  secrets  of  the  house,  and  every  Tom,  Dick  and 
Harry,  who  calls  himself  a  chief  cook,  and  had 
learned  his  trade  in  Delmonico's  kitchen,  can 
cook  and  make  up  the  finest  dinners  on  record, 
^vith  that  book,  which  tells  him  everything  he 
don't  know.  There  is  hardly  one  hotel  in  New 
York  to-day  whose  chef  did  not  learn  his  cook- 
ing at  Delmonico's,  every  one  of  them.  The 
book  gave  all  the  secrets  to  the  world — the 
market,  what  is  in  season,  where  to  get  it,  and 
what  is  the  correct  thing  to  eat  every  day,  and 
all  the  year  around. 

And  this  is  the  error  that  was  made  by  Mr. 
Ch.  Ch.  Delmonico. 

The  only  gentleman  living  yet  from  the 
Tweed  regime  is  Mr.  Murphy,  ex-collector  of  the 
port  of  New  York  ;  he  walks  sometimes  now  into 
the  Delmonico  cafe,  as  straight  as  an  arrow, 
with  his  cream  face,  like  our  noble  president,  Mr. 
McKinley,  and  smokes  a  cigar  not  lighted ;  he  is 
an  honest  citizen,  and  was  a  great  politician  in 
his  times,  gone  by.  Mr.  Murphy  has  three  sons, 
Mr.  Edgar  Murphy,  the  great  wing  shot  and 
sporting  editor  of  the  New  York  Journal ;  Mr. 


25 


Waller  Murphy,  a  fine  looking  man,  tall,  six 
feet,  blond,  and  very  good  natured.  He  is  agent 
of  a  great  wine  and  liquor  concern. 

Now,  for  curiosity's  sake.  Very  few  people 
know  why  Mr.  James  Gordon  Bennett's  nose  is 
broke.  I  can  tell  you  that.  It  was  one  day  away 
back  in  the  seventies,  when,  one  nice  summer 
day,  a  party  sat  in  the  Fourteenth  Street  house 
cafe  ;  amongst  them  were  Mr.  Charles  Delmonico, 
Mr.  Ed\vard  Stokes,  Mr.  George  Lawrence,  Mr. 
James  Gordon  Bennett,  Mr.  Ben  Wenberg  ;  it  was 
a  race  day  in  Jerome  Park,  and  about  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  they  had  luncheon  and  cham- 
pagne ;  they  were  very  happy  and  chatted  about 
this  and  about  that.  All  at  once  Mr.  Bennett 
slapped  Mr.  Stokes'  face — why,  I  don't  know,  and 
Mr.  Stokes  wanted  to  kill  Mr.  Bennett,  but  the 
other  gentlemen  would  not  have  it ;  so  Mr.  Ch. 
Delmonico  suggested  to  have  it  out,  fair  and 
square.  They  went  right  into  it,  took  their  coats 
off  and  went  out  into  the  hall.  In  a  twinkling 
of  an  eye  Mr.  Bennett  was  on  the  floor,  and  ath- 
letic Mr.  Stokes  hammered  away  on  Mr.  Bennett's 
nose    like    a    sledge    hammer,  when    the    other 


26 


gentlemen  took  him  a^vay  and  satisfaction  \vas 
given.  We  had  to  bring  Mr.  Bennett  up-stairs  and 
sent  for  a  doctor  to  have  Mr.  Bennett's  nose  fixed 
up,  and  he  has  the  mark  on  his  nose  to-day  yet. 

Mr.  J.  G.  Bennett  Hves  now  most  of  the  time 
in  London,  where  he  spends  his  inoney  which  he 
makes  in  New  York  from  his  great  paper,  the 
Herald,  founded  by  his  father.  The  printing, 
building  and  offices  of  tlie  Herald,  on  Herald 
Square,  are  a  sight  by  themselves,  with  the 
marvellous  printing  machines  of  Messrs.  R.  Hoe  & 
Co.,  New  York  and  London,  which  prints  in 
colors,  folds  and  cuts  so  quick,  like  rain,  ready 
for  the  public  every  hour.  It  is  an  astonishing 
invention  of  a  genius. 

But  Mr.  J.  G.  Bennett  is  not  as  true  a 
republican  as  his  father  was  ;  he  tries  to  flatter 
the  Prince  of  Wales.  What  for  ?  I  have  no 
idea.  What  is  royalty,  I  should  like  to  know. 
Look  for  instance  to  the  Kings  of  Bavaria,  the 
Wittelsbachers. 

There  is  King  Otto,  crazy  like  a  lunatic  and 
chained  in  a  padded  room,  so  that  he  cannot  kill 
himself.  His  brother  jumped  into  a  lake  with 
his  doctor  and  both  drowned.     What  right  have 


27 


such  men  to  be  kings  from  God's  grace,  I  would 
like  to  know.  A  man  is  a  man,  when  a  gentle- 
man, and  a  repul^lic  is  the  only  government 
and  power  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Look  at 
Uncle  Sam  and  what  the  United  States  of 
America  have  accomplished  ;  they  own  the 
^vorld.  Where  are  the  European  powers?  We 
blow  them  off  the  earth.  England,  once  our 
enemy,  now  our  best  friend,  and  the  rest  of  the 
foreign  powers  are  not  in  it. 

Monroe  doctrine  is  right,  whatever  may 
come.  The  Europeans  laughed  at  us,  that  we 
have  no  navy  ;  we  have  no  soldiers  ;  we  cannot 
march  or  shoot,  like  they  can  ;  we  heive  no 
generals  ;  oh,  no!  we  cannot  compare  with  them, 
oh,  no!  But  what  does  the  world  think  now  of 
Uncle  Sam  ? 

The  new  Forty-fourth  Street  house  is,  from 
the  outside,  a  fine  building,  in  the  renaissance 
style  of  the  fourteenth  century,  Louis  XIV  of 
France,  and  built  hy  Messrs.  Lord  and  King, 
great  architects  ;  but  the  inside,  as  a  restaurant, 
is  a  mistake ;  they  did  not  know  what  hotel 
service    was    and    never    asked    anybody    who 


28 


knew  something  about  it.  There  is  the  entrance 
on  the  side  street ;  it  ought  to  be  on  Fifth 
Avenue  ;  the  kitchen,  high  and  large;  the  dining- 
room,  sinall  and  low  ;  the  cafe  room,  small  and 
low  and  black,  with  three  windows  looking  at 
a  stable. 

Hipnotatiim,  Svengo.  nbi,  ibi. 

No^v,  my  dear  readers,  look  back  to  the  genius 
of  old  Mr.  Charles  Delmonico,  who  built  the 
Twenty-sixth  Street  house  ;  it  is  situated  on  the 
finest  piece  of  land  in  New  York  City,  corner  of 
Twenty- sixth  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue,  in  front 
of  a  fine  park,  the  Madison  Square  Park;  there 
is  Admiral  Farragut's  statue  right  in  front  of 
Delmonico's  ;  the  park  itself  is  a  sight,  with  its 
big  trees,  some  of  them  hundreds  of  years  old,  its 
wonderful  fountain  and  flower  beds ;  there  is  not 
such  a  piece  of  land  in  any  city,  not  in  Paris,  nor 
in  London,  or  Berlin,  or  Vienna.  The  quickness 
of  service  to  the  guests  of  the  house  is  something 
marvellous  ;  the  guest  first  gives  his  order  to  the 
waiter;  in  a  second  the  waiter  gives  the  order  to 
the  cooks,  and  that  is  all,  so  simple  and  quick  ; 
and  I  can  safely  say  there  is  no  house  in  the 
world  which  can  do  the  same  thing. 


29 


There  is  another  great  man  well  acquainted 
with  the  Delinonicos,  Mr.  John  H.  Starin,  the 
multi-millionaire,  and  owner  of  Glen  Island,  and 
steamships  for  passengers  and  transportation, 
the  father-in-law  of  our  noble  general,  Mr.  How- 
ard Carroll,  who  went  so  gallantly  to  the  front  to 
fight  for  our  glorious  Stars  and  Stripes  of  Uncle 
Sam. 

Mr.  John  H.  Starin,  with  his  son  Mr.  Myndert 
Starin,  the  general  manager  of  those  neglected 
islands,  turned  them  into  a  fairy  land.  I  think 
there  is  not  another  place  like  it  on  the  face  of 
the  earth — those  shady  walks,  the  menagerie,  the 
Klein  Deutschland,  the  rustic  Rhein  Castle,  its 
beautiful  waters  around  it  for  pleasure  boats, 
boat  races  and  the  like.  It  is  a  wonder  to  look  at ; 
its  baths  and  up-to-date  restaurant  and  clam 
bake,  etc. 

In  thanking  you,  my  dear  readers,  for  your 
patience, 

I  remain  very  truly  yours, 

LEOPOLD  RIMMER, 

Author. 


30 


